


Pineapple on Pizza? Really?

by betheflame



Series: Shorts & Drabbles 2019 [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Gen, It's Really Just About Pizza, New Yorkers are Passionate About Pizza, Round Robin, Steve Has Strong Feelings About Pineapple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-27 10:48:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20044747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/betheflame/pseuds/betheflame
Summary: Nothingis done on the team without bickering, even ordering dinner.In which Sam and Tony argue about the nature of pizza toppings, Bucky is a bit of a shit, Clint grosses them all out, and Nat is Queen of Everything, per usual.





	Pineapple on Pizza? Really?

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to everyone on the Stuckony Discord Headcanons feed this afternoon as we all communally wrote this in about, what, an hour? I volunteered as tribute to put this delightful crackfic together and so this was born.
> 
> Thanks to [ TehRoseRose](https://archiveofourown.com/users/RoseRose/works) for the lightning fast beta and to SundownWinter for providing the prompt in the first place and kicking us off with Tony's quote about pizza (which I lifted unashamedly).
> 
> The pizza place Sam orders from is fecking delish, y'all, and my favorite in Alphabet City.

_Jesus_, Sam thought, _they were at it again_. 

“Pizza,” Tony opined, “Pizza is like sex. It’s only complicated if people don’t agree on everything.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Steve snorted. 

“My point, Cap,” Tony ignores the other man, “is that some green onions on a pizza will not literally kill you.”

“But this yammering might kill me,” Bucky says from his seat at the other end of the table. “Just fucking order the damn pizza.”

In the past few months of Team Bonding Meals, as Steve called them in all the official communication, Sam had noticed three things. 

One: If there was some element of the meal to argue about, Steve and Tony would find it. 

Two: If there was a way to fuck with either Tony or Steve, Bucky would find it. 

Three: If there was a way to ignore all of them and still get good food, he would find it. 

“It’s just pizza,” Nat said calmly from her seat next to Bucky. “There is no need to get all worked up.”

“It’s just pizza, the woman says casually,” Tony mocked. “Natasha, you wound me.”

She rolled her eyes and took the portable whetstone from Bucky because in this life Sam was leading now it was completely normal for people to sharpen the knives they used to kill people at the kitchen table. 

“Pizza,” Tony continued his treatise, “is the greatest single food form in the world and it’s greatest expression is found in New York.”

“Um, I think the Italians would have some thoughts on that,” Bucky smirked. 

“All respect to my motherland,” Tony replied, “but no. The best iteration of pizza is New York Pizza and it’s best form is full of as many toppings as the crust can hold.”

“All it needs is good sauce, and good cheese,” Steve interrupted again. “All this other garbage is just distracting. I want pizza or I want a salad. I don’t want both in one bite.”

“I’ll just order, shall I?” Sam interrupted, knowing that if he didn’t, no one would eat. If they were at Tony and Pepper’s, he would have just started to make the pizza himself since they had a wood fire oven that Tony had constructed a few summers back because he was bored. Instead, today’s training and meal was in one of the SI warehouses in Alphabet City because Steve felt they needed the aerial space to practice. There was a basic kitchen here that Tony kept stocked for them, but not enough to feed the hoard. So that meant Solo on Avenue B, which thankfully had text ordering. 

He was promised that within thirty minutes, they’d have fifteen large pizzas, which should feed this crew enough to get them all back to the compound where they’d inevitably eat again. 

“Where’d you order from?” Steve asked when Sam announced it was all on the way. 

“Solo,” which earned him nods from the locals. 

“Oh man,” Clint said as he slid into a chair. “I like Papa John’s.”

There was a silence that leaned on deadly and Sam swore he heard Bucky sharpen a knife. 

“You like Papa. John’s.” Bucky growled. “Listen, I did not get resurrected and deprogrammed to hear you utter such disrespect. Like a yokel from Kentucky knows the first fucking thing about pizza. Clinton, wash out your mouth.”

“He’s going to desecrate it with ranch dressing anyway,” Steve sighed. 

“What’s wrong with ranch on pizza?” Scott asked innocently and Peter’s eyes went wide. 

“People actually do that? I thought it was just a joke.”

“Better ingredients,” Clint started chanting the advertisement when a schwiiing sounded through the air and they all looked to see Bucky’s knife poised in the board just next to Clint’s head. 

“Now, now, boys,” Nat said with a smirk. “That’s a good knife, no need to bloody it with Clint.”

Clint flipped her off and headed to the fridge to get out the ranch that he had stashed there and ignored the looks from all the New Yorkers. 

“You really dip your crusts in ranch, Mr. Hawkeye?” Peter’s voice held a twinge of what Sam would describe as pain. 

“It’s the only way,” Clint confirmed. “Especially if you get those hot dog crust ones from Pizza Hut.”

“The what now?” Steve asked. 

“Pizza Hut has these pizzas where they put a hot dog in the crust, man,” Clint crowed. “It is so good.”

“It’s an abomination,” Tony replied at the same time that Steve said, “Fuck no.”

“You got Cap to curse, Barton,” Tony howled. 

“Hot dogs in pizza are a no, Barton, get out of here,” Steve said, ignoring Tony. 

Clint rolled his eyes and stayed put, but Steve’s eyes never wavered. “You’re not serious.”

“You think I fuck around about pizza?”

“Stevie does not fuck around about pizza,” Bucky confirmed. 

Thankfully, at that moment, Pepper arrived with Morgan in tow and tensions simmered down so Queen Morgan of Avengelandia – as she was referred to that week – could show them all her new karate moves. 

“Steve, sugar plum,” Tony whispered as his daughter pretended to flip Peter over onto his back. “Like, I get it, but it is just pizza.”

“The sacrilege, Stark,” Steve smirked. “I’ll have you know that pizza is sacred, which is why you can’t defile it with pineapple.”

“At least we don’t put corn on it.”

“Corn?”

“Yeah, the Brits put corn. And tuna fish sometimes. And arugula.”

“All on the same pizza?!”

“I got stranded in London once and the only place that was open was a Pizza Express. There was a, nothing ‘express’ about it, and b, what was made there wasn’t for the faint of heart,” Tony confirmed. 

“I’m going to, for the sake of my sanity, forget you ever said that, and circle back to pineapple,” Steve replied. 

The pair were still bickering when the pizza arrived. Five full cheese pizzas, which Steve and Peter commandeered immediately, five Supremes, which went to Tony, Nat, Pepper, and Morgan, and five pepperoni, which got split between Scott, Clint, and Sam. 

Bucky was, according to his dietary restrictions, allowed one half of one cheese slice before he had to go get all of his special smoothies that Shuri kept sending over. “One day,” he grumbled, “imma eat a meal like a functioning adult.”

“Soon, cupcake,” Tony smirked. “The eating, not the functioning adult.”

“Oh, I’m not an adult? Then I won’t eat like one,” and Bucky proceeded to commit one of Tony Stark’s biggest pizza sins. 

He cut his pizza with his main knife and some sort of spork he pulled from his person. 

“No,” Tony shook his head. “No cutting your pizza.”

Bucky kept eye contact with Tony, a smirk cemented on his face, while he methodically cut the pizza and slowly brought the first bit to his mouth. 

Tony’s face twitched and Pepper shot Nat a look. 

“All right, gentlemen,” Nat said, corralling the testosterone. “Who wants to tell Morgan about how Peter got tangled in his own webs today?”

Morgan brightened, Peter blushed, and Pepper mouthed a ‘thank you’ to Nat. Attention diverted, Bucky was less inclined to be a little shit, and headed to the kitchen to clean off his knife and grab his own dinner. 

Sam was thankful for the distraction of normality until he noticed Tony passing Peter all of the tiny plastic table things from the boxes. 

“Tony,” Sam said slowly. “What’s the plan?”

“He needs his vision of the ranch blocked,” Peter explained helpfully, “so we’re engineering a barricade.”

“A barricade of the things that keep the top of the pizza box from touching the pizza.”

“The tables, yeah,” Peter affirmed as he continued his work. 

Sam rolled his eyes and caught a smirk from Tony before Clint reached over the semi-constructed barricade to dip some crust he had just retrieved from the ground into the communal bowl. 

“That was on the _floor_, Clint,” Scott wrinkled his nose. 

“Yeah, but Stark has people clean. Five second rule,” the archer responded with a mouth full of ranch-drenched pizza. 

“That is disgusting,” Steve said. 

“My floors are clean,” Tony protested. 

“No, the ranch thing,” Steve replied and before Sam knew it, everyone was yelling. 

The New Yorkers were defending their staple food, Scott and Clint were defending their ability to desecrate it with white sauce, Pepper was telling Morgan not to listen to her father, and Nat… 

Sam looked around for Nat and caught her eye as she quietly put Bucky’s best knife into her side holster. She winked at him. 

He walked over. “You suggested pizza, didn’t you.”

“Yup.”

“Plan all along?”

“Yup,” she emphasized the ‘p’. “It’s a good knife.”

Sam laughed and saluted her. “Cap’s in charge of nothing around here, is he?”

She smiled coyly and went to go sit next to Pepper while the Battle of The Very Definition of Pizza continued around them. 

Just another Friday as an Avenger.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Twitter](http://www.twitter.com/betheflame1) or [Tumblr](http://betheflame.tumblr.com) for more on these yahoos. You can also submit prompts and cajole me into writing faster - it usually works.


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